


This is the Highway to Hell

by Dreamer_of_Improbable_Dreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apocalypse, Bottom Dean, Boyking Sam, Dark, Evil Sam, Evil Sam Winchester, Hell, Hurt Dean, King of Hell Sam, M/M, Raised apart AU, Rape, Top Sam, noncon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 02:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10350498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamer_of_Improbable_Dreams/pseuds/Dreamer_of_Improbable_Dreams
Summary: He’s a sorry creature. Ragged and hollow eyed, limping badly. Motherless, Fatherless, friendless, he’s an anomaly to his own kind, completely devoid of human connection. He is utterly alone in the world.And yet, his face and soft green eyes carry a very human gentleness underneath his learned hardness.This one.whispers a voice in the King’s head.This is the one.Dean summons a demon to make a deal.





	

He’s a sorry creature. Ragged and hollow eyed, limping badly. Motherless, Fatherless, friendless, he’s an anomaly to his own kind, completely devoid of human connection. He is utterly alone in the world.  
And yet, his face and soft green eyes carry a very human gentleness underneath his learned hardness.  
_This one._ whispers a voice in the King’s head. _This is the one._

“I’m here to make a deal.” He says.

He’s standing there in the centre of the crossroads, pitted dirt and gravel spinning out in the four cardinal directions around him. He has dirt on his hands and the knees of his tattered jeans. But his bright green eyes are firm when he locks eyes with the Devil.

The monster in front of him smiles. A twisted hungry smile on a sweet gentle face. The sickly purple orange clouds churn at his amusement and fire spits from the sky like sleet. It sizzles out on the dusty earth. There isn't much left to burn.

“What could you possibly want from a crossroads demon in the middle of an apocalypse little hunter?” The demon asks. He watches a quiver run through the hunter’s wounded leg. He knows it’s going to collapse soon.

“So what could it be? Ten years of safety? A place at the King’s table? Or maybe just an escape to another reality where this is nothing but a dream. Sex? Love? Power? Maybe you want me to fix that leg before you have to limp for the rest of your life. Whats worth your soul Pretty?” The demon mocked, circling the wounded hunter. Up close he could see sweat beading on his pale skin, the tremors of pain in the clench of his fists. The way he fought to keep his wounded leg from buckling him to his knees in front of his enemy.

“None of those things.” The hunter grit out through clenched teeth. “I want you to stop the apocalypse. I want you to spare the earth and the innocent. And in exchange, you get my soul. Right now, no waiting.”

The monster smiles, sweet and angelic. His eyes are golden yellow suns.  
_He’s the one we’ve been waiting for._  
He wants him. Wants the soul of this exquisitely broken creature in front of him with the sad warm green eyes that pull at his memories. He _wants_ with a hunger that reminds him of the sucking pits of tartarus. All of Hell quivers with his excitement. His greed.  
This was never anything but a distraction for him while he waited for _this.  
_ He’s just been toying with the angels while he waited.

“You have a deal Dean Winchester.” Says the King of Hell with a predatory smile. 

The hunter reaches out to yank the demon into a kiss, tight closed lips against hungry mouth before he wrenches himself away with a look of disgust.  
The demon smirks. “You really think a kiss is enough to seal the deal? Baby, I’m the King of Hell, it’s gonna take a lot more then a kiss to seal this deal.” Before Dean can gather himself the demon throws him into the side of the Impala, stalking after him with a greedy expression as he watches the hunter, white with pain, try to struggle to his feet on his bloody leg.  
“No, I’m gonna fuck you bloody. And then I’m taking you straight down to hell to do it again. You poor stupid selfless bastard.”  
The demon catches Dean up in one hand, wrenching the back door open with a screech before shoving Dean inside. The hunter is fighting now, white faced with pain and blood loss, his hand going for the knife at his belt before the demon catches his wrists and wrenches them behind his back.  
He’s never felt so helpless before, weak and in pain and afraid of the monster pinning him down. His panicked senses filled with the warm homey smell of the Impala and the copper scent of blood and the monster’s warm hazel eyes grinning down at him as his clothes are ripped away and his hands are tied with the rags. He’s never felt so vulnerable. So afraid.  
He can’t help the tears that burn his eyes. He can’t help the humiliation or the pain when the monster digs fingers into the bloody wound in his thigh to yank his legs open to reveal his most vulnerable parts.  
He can’t help crying because the monster has big hot hands all over him where they shouldn’t be, and his mouth is biting and kissing at Dean’s skin leaving bruises and Dean feels like he’ll never be able to let anyone touch him ever again.  
Maybe he’s sobbing now. It’s hard to breath. 

The pain in his leg spikes to blinding agony as the demon digs fingers into his wound, slicking his fingers red with blood.  
Fingers shove inside him, stretching his hole, first one, then two. He can’t help crying out and trying to close his legs, but all that gets him is another finger in his hole and a harsh hand on his wounded thigh pulling him open again. 

When the devil forces himself inside he puts his hands on either side of Dean’s face and forces him to lock green eyes with soft hazel. So out of place in this scene of blood and pain. Dean screams at the burning stretch and the hot heavy feeling of being full. So alien in his virgin hole. “This is it. The deal is sealed now. Your world is safe, you can let go now.” The King of Hell croons gently as he strokes his thumbs through Dean’s tears and watches those pain filled green eyes searching his face hopelessly. 

“If I’d known you where so pretty I would have come looking for you sooner after I killed your daddy.” The monster tells Dean. Seeming content to simply sit sheathed to the hilt in Dean’s burning hole. “You should have seen his face when he figured out who I was.”  
Dean’s already broken. His soul is already sold. His body violated. And yet, the monster seems to be just getting warmed up. Dean’s torment is only just beginning. He has a rising sense of dread, of horror, like he can sense some revelation coming that will destroy him.  
“He cried when I told him what I was gonna do to you.” the demon tells Dean, biting at his neck with sharp teeth.  
“If only he could see you now, all spread out and fucked bloody, your fucked out hole leaking your little brother’s come like the weak slut that you are. Thats right Dean,” the demon says, forcing Dean’s wide shocked eyes to meet his own hazel ones. “I’m your little brother Sammy, who you gave up on all those years ago. Aren't you gonna say hello to your baby bro, the king of Hell?” 

Dean can feel bile rising in his throat, knows it’s true as soon as he locks eyes with that familiar hazel gaze. Remembers the little boy he lost with wide fox slanted eyes that he adored. He can’t stop seeing the child, the one he looked after and fed, who he read stories to in the back of the impala, the one he tucked in at night. The little boy he never stopped looking for, never stopped seeing in all the children he saw with their parents, all the kids he saved. The hole in his heart that never healed, the one person Dean loved most in the world.  
His own flesh and blood.  
The little brother he loved more then anyone in the whole world.  
All of a sudden the violation of his body feels a thousand times worse, the pain aching from the space Sam forced for himself in Dean’s body suddenly seems vast and irreparable and so much more obscene. He feels the stabbing pain of Sam in his body still.  
He can feel the scream rising in him, bubbling its way up his throat like acid. He’s not sure if he’s going to scream or throw up until the sound bursts out of him.  
The cry that breaks out of him is pure agony and despair. The sound of a soul crumbling in pain.  
Dean shuts his eyes and lets the darkness of despair and blood loss take him away from the burning weight of Sammy pressed over his body. 


End file.
